Newspaper Page Text
VOLUME XLlf.j
M ILLEDGE VILLE, GEORGIA, JUNE 5, 1872.
NUMBER 45.
£bc Jfeiieral n i o n,
Id PUBLISHED WEEKLY
IN MILLEDGEVILLE, GA.,
BY
BOUGHTON, BARNES & MOORE,
(Corner of Hancock ami Wilkinson Streets,)
At $2 ia Advance, or $3 at end of the year.
S. N. BOUGHTON, Editor.
ADVERTISING.
Transient.—One Dollar per square of ten lines for
first insertion and seventy-live cents fir each subse
queut continuance.
Tributes of respect, Resolutions by Societies,Obit
uaries exceeding six lines, Nomiuationsfor office,Com
munications or Editorial notices for individual benefit,
charged as transient advertising.
LEGAL ADVERTISING.
Sheriff's Sales, per levy of ten lines, or less f 2 50
Mortgage ti la sales, per square, 5 00
Citations for Letters of Administration, . 3 00
“ “ Guardianship,.. 3 00
Application for dismission from Administration, 3 00
“ Guardiaubliip, 3 00
“ “ leave to sell Laud, 5 00
“ for Homesteads, 175
Notice to Debtors and Creditors, 3 00
Saks ol Land, &.C., per Square, 5 00
“ perishable property, 10 days, per square,.. 150
Estray Notices, 30 days, 3 00
Foreclosure of Mortgage, per sq-, each time,.... 10C
Applications for Homesteads, (two weeks,).... 1 75
LEGAL ADVERTISEMENTS.
Sales of Laud, Ac., by Administrators, Executors
or Guardians, are required bylaw to be held on the
first Tuesday intlie mouth, between the hours of It'
iu the forenoon and 5 in the aiteruoou, at the Court
Rouse in the County in which the property is siiuated.
Notice of these sales must be given tti a public ga
zelte 10 days previous to the day of sale.
Notices for tiie sale ot personal property must be
given in like manner 10 days previous to sale day.
Notices to the debtors uud creditors of an estate
must also be published 40 days.
Notice that application will be made to the Court ol
Ordinary for leave to sell Land, Ac., must be publish
ed tor two months.
Citations for letters of Administration,Guardianship,
&<■., must be published 30 days—for dismission from
Administration monthly three mouths—fordismission
from Guardianship, 40 days.
Rules for toreclnsiireof Mortgage must be publish
ed monthly for four months—for establishing lost pa
pers lor the tul! space of three mouths—for compell
ing titles from Executors or Administrators, where
bond has been given by the deceased, the full spaceof
three months.
Publications will always be continued according to
these,tuelegalrequirements,unlessotherwise ordered.
THE FIKBT WEDDING.
[The last number of the Historical and Geneal
ogical Register contains in its department of
‘Notes and Querrieg” tbe following poem, in cel-
ebratim of the wedding of Edward Winslow and
Susannah White—tlie first wedding in New Eng
land, mentioned on page 14 of the record. It was
written by the late Miss France* M. Canlkins, the
historian of Koiwicb and New London.J
Book and Job Work, of all kinds,
PROMPTLY AND NEATLY EXECUTED
AT THIS OFFICE.
Agents for Federal Union in New York City
GEO. P. ROM ELL A CO., No. 40 Park Row.
S M. PETTINGILL A CO., 37 Park Row.
rr*M essrs. Griffin A Hoffman. Newspaper
Advertising Agents, No. 4 South St, Baltimore, Md..
are duly authorized to contract for adveitisements at
•ur lowest rates. Advertisers in that City are request
ed to leave their favors with this house.”
First bride first bridegroom of the land,
Uude the Christian banner;
The straitest of a strait laced band,
Young Winslow and gentle Susannah.
Hail to the nuptials, shining fair
At the head of our Puritan story ;
It brightens ali New England sir,
With a stream of wedding glory*
No bells, no pomp, but side by side.
Pure in soul and pnre in manner.
Such metbinks was the wedding tide
Of Winslow and his fair Susannah.
O, could I sway the countless years,
Downward o er our country flowing.
All the weddings of all the spheres
Should with these pattern tints be glowing.
Such weddings with sucli groom and bride,
So linked with grace and duty,
Ten thousand fold be multiplied,
In ail their horn ly beauty.
Not games or banque‘8 mark the day,
Plain robes, not costly dressing;
Solemnities, and noi display.
Few friends, and hearty blessing.
When faith is pledged and hearts unite,
’’I is a type of heavenly union ;
Sacred should be tlie nuptial rite
To home-born 1 eart communion.
S i t g § i r t c t o r g.
RAIL ROAD TIME TABLE.
Arrival and Departure of Trams at Milledgeville.
MACON A AUGUSTA RAILROAD.
Da, Train.
D»wn Train to Augusta arrive* at Milledgev., 8.17 a.m.
Up Train to Macon arrives at Milledgeville, 7 23 p.m
Night Train.
Arrives from Augusta at 12:20 a m.
“ “ Macon at 12:15 a in.
EATONTON A GORDON RAILROAD.
8.45 p. m-
2.35 p. m
Up Train to E&tnuton arrives at Milledgev.,
Down Train to Gordon arrives “
Post Office Notice.
Milledgeville. Jan. 18, 1872.
From and after this date mailt* will Hose a* follows :
Mads for Atlanta and Augusta and points beyond
going noi t.h and east, will close at 8 o’clock AM.
Mails for Macon, South western Hoad, and points
beyond, going south west, will close at 5 P. M.
Alai'S for Savannah and Florida close at 2:15 P. M.
Mails for Eatontoxi and Monticello closes at 8:45- P M.
Office hours from 7 A. M. until 6:30 P. M.
Office open on Sunday.** from 8 to 9 1-2 A. M.
Money Orders obtained from 7 A. M. until 5 P. M.
JOSIAS MARSHALL, P. M.
Church Directory.
BAllTIST CHURCH.
Services 1st and 3d Sundays in each month, at 11
o’clock a m and 7 p in.
Sabbath School at9 l-2o’clock, am. S N Houghton,
Bupt. Rev- D E liUTLER, Pastor.
METHODIST CHURCH.
Hours of service ou Sunday: 11 o’clock, am
and 7 pm.
Sunday School 3 o'clock p m.—W E Frankland,
Superintendent.
Friends of the Sabbath School are invited to visit it
S S Missionaiy Society, monthly, 4th Sunday at 2 p m
Prayer meeting every Wednesday 7 o’clock p m-
Rev A J JARRELL Pastor.
PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH.
Services every Sabbath (except the 2d in each mo)
at I I o’clock a in. and 7 p in-
Ssbbaili School at 9 1-2 a m. T T \V indsor, Supt.
Prayer meeting every Friday at 4 o’clock, p m.
Rev C W LANE, Pastor.
EPISCOPAL CHURCH.
Without a Pastor at present.
.Sunday School at 9 o’clock, a m.
Lodges.
I. O. G.T.
millcdgeviile Lodge No 115 meets in the Senate
Chamber at the State House on every Friday even
ing ot 7 o’clock. C P CRAWFORD, \V C T.
E P Lane, See’y.
Cold Water Templurs meet at the State House eve-
y Saturday afternoon at 3 o'clock.
MASONIC.
Benevolent Lo<l*r No 3 F A M, meets 1st and 3d
Saturday nights of each month at Masonic Hall.
G D Case, Sec’y. 1 11-HOWARD, W. M.
Temple Chapter meets the second and fourth Sat
urday nights in each month.
G D Case, Sec’y. S G \\ HITE, U P.
Milledgeville Lodge of Perfection A.'.A A.'.
5 R.-, meets everv Monday night
SAM’L G WHITE,T..P. - G.'.M.*.
Geo. D.^Case, Exc Grand See y.
CITY GOVERNMENT.
Mayor—Samuel Walker. .
Board of Aldermen.—I. F B Mapp; 2 t Trice;
3 T A Caraker; 4 Jacob Cantker; 5 J II McCornb;
6 Henry Temples.
Clerk and Treasurer—Peter Fair.
Marshal—J B Fair. Policeman— T Tat.le.
Deputy Marshal and Street Overseer—Peter Ferrell.
Sexton- F Bet-laud
City Surveyor—C T Bayne.
City Auctioneer—S J Kidd.
Finance Committee-T A Caraker,Temples. Mapp-
Street “ J Caraker, Trice, McComb
Land “ McComb, J Caraker, Trice.
Cemetery “ Temples, Mnpp. T A Caraker.
Board meet* 1st and 3d Wednesday nights in eacn
Month.
“IT'LL IVdill St i’OtlE NO iUOKE.”
The following from the pen of Mrs. F. G. Fon
taine, of Charleston S C*, will touch a tender
chord in every southern heart.
I’se been a waitin’ long for de good ole time
I)at’ll neber come no mo’;
When I used to rock an’ work an sing
Iu de little cabin do’.
My Sam was riar wid his fiddle,
Po’ S'*m : he’s gone—done dead !
Dead lor de want of food an’ clothes
An* de shelter ober head.
An’ little Mose—well, lie’s dead, too ;
How he use to dance an’ sing,
While J’m an’ Polly an’ all de res’
Went “roun’ an’ rotin’ de ring.”
Olo Missis—biess her dear ole sonl—
Would luff till her sides gib way,
An Massa’d s'op at my cabin just
To say, ’“llow is ole Mamin to-day 7”
De boys—I mean ole Massa’s boys—
Dev lubbed ole Mammy too,
Who missed ’em—eb’ry blessed one,
Clean down to little Massa Lou.
Po’ Massa Lou ! He went to de fight,
But lie nebber come back no mo ;
W e heer"d he fell, wid a bullet in de breast.
In do front ob de battle roar.
He’d put bis arms aroun’ my neck
An’ ray, “Mammy, I love you so !”
He didn’t see no harm in dat.
Do’ Mammy was black au’ po’*
Ole Missis died wid a broken heart
Winn de las’ ob de boys was killed,
An’ Massa bowed his bead and cried
Dat his cup ob soirow was filled.
A’ yere I’ve sot, awaitin’ an’ watcliLi’
For de good time cornin’ no mo’.
An’ I see ole Missis a callin’ Mauimy
Across from de odder aho’.
The New Apportionment.—Below will be
found the new apportionment as lately amended
and passed by Congress. The first apportion
ment bill, passed by tbe present Congress, gives
the House 284, wbile the amended act gives 292,
as shown below :
States.
42d Cong-
43d Cong.
Gaii
Alabama........
8
2
Arkansas
3
4
1
California
4
1
Cornecricut
4
4
—
Delaware
1
1
—
Florida
1
2
1
Georgia — ..
9
2
Illinois
.... 14
19
5
Indiana
13
2
Iowa.
9
3
Kansas
. ... 1
3
2
Kentucky
9
10
1
Louisiana
6
1
Maine
.... 5
5
—
Maryland
5
6
1
Massachusetts...
10
11
1
Michigan
.... c
9
3
Minnesota
2
3
1
Mississippi
5
6
I
Missouri
9
13
4
Nebraska
1
—
Nevada
1
—
New Hampshire
3
3
—
New Jersey
7
2
New York
.... 31
33
2
North Caiolina.
8
1
Ohio
.... 19
20
1
Oregon
1
1
—
Pennsylvania...
.... 24
27
3
Rhode Island ...
.... 2
2
—
South Carolina..
4
5
1
Tennessee
10
1
Texas
6
2
Vermont
3
—
Virginia
8
9
1
West Virginia..
3
3
—
Wisconsin
8
2
Total.
292
49
Macaulay
on Diamonds.—The gl
COUNTY OFFICERS.
Judge M, V- Bell, Ordinary—office iu Masonic Hall.
P L Fair, Clerk Sup’i; Court,
Obadiali Arnold, isheriff, “
II V llonner. Dep’iy Sheriff, lives in the country.
Jiwius Marshall, Reo’r Tax Returns—at Post Office.
L N Callawav, Tax Collector, office at his store,
li Temples, County Tieaeurer, oriice at bis store.
Isaac Cushing, Coronor, residence ou W ilkinson st.
John Gentry, Constable, residence ou Wayne st, near
tbe Factory.
MEDICAL BOARD OF GEORGIA.
Dr. G. D Case Dean. Dr. 8. G. WHITE, Pres’dt
Regular meeting first Monday in December.
STATE LUNATIC ASYLUM.
Dr THOS F GREEN, Superintendent.
M R Bell, Tr. & Steward.
FIRE DEPARTMENT.
D B Sanford, Stc’y. JOHN JONES, Chief.
The M Sl M Fire Co. meets at Hie Court Room on
the first and third Tuesday Dights in each month.
GALL AND SEE CS
C. W. GAFSE A CO,
j^EALEKS IN pKO VJSIONS GROCERIES,
liquors, hardware,
CROCKERY, GLASSWARE, SHOES,
In fact everything usually kept in a First-class
Family Grocery & Provision Store*
East side Wayne Street.
Agents for Whann’s Raw Bone
Soper Phosphate.
N. E. All persons indebted to us ate earnestly re-
■ quested to settle at onoe.
C. W. GAUSE. H. M. BOSE.
Milledgeville, Ga.,Feb. 6,1873, 28 tf
For the Federal Union.
REGINALD ARCI.ER.
ing subject of diamonds is fruitful with
inexhaustible reminiscences. I heard of a
man who was once breakfasting with
Lord Macaulay, when the conversation
turned on diamonds. Macaulay possessed
a marvelous knowledge of details, which
he had pride iu exhibiting* A friend of
mine once saw him moved to the abso
lute shedding of tears because he could
not recollect what he was about to quote.
The conversation turned on the regalia of
different thrones and Macaulay went from
diamomd to diamond with his marvelous
memory. He would of course speak of tbe
famous Pitt diamond, which was brought
by an Englishman into Europe, and placed
by Napoleoti in the hilt ot the State Sword
ot France; of the great Austrian diamond;
the great Russian diamond, and a perfect
mountain belonging to the crown of Portu
gal, which is said to be worth nearly six
millions. There is a counterstatement, that
this is merely a fine colorless topaz, and
the Portuguese sovereign does not submit
the case to any scientific arbitration.—Lon
don Society.
Cut his Head Off.—The Macon
Enterprise of Saturday has this item .
From a passenger on the 2:25 train
from Brunswick, we learn the partic
ulars of a terrible accident that occur
red at Beaver Dam Creek, near Co
ley’s Station, about one o’clock this
evening- A negro boy, aged fourteen
years, named Jerry McGriff] in com
pany with two white men, had been
fishing, and becoming tired, they had
laid down to sleep—the white men
near the track and the negro with his
head on the track. The train came
up under full speed and passed direct
ly over, severing the head and left arm
from the body. The engineer, it
seems, did not see the negro until he
passed. The coroner was immediate
ly notified.
BY W. G. MACADOO.
It was once believed that no em
bodiment of human wisdom presented
a more perfect spectacle than that
known as the English Common Law.—
We are of the few “old fogies” who
still believe so, in the main. The
punishments were too severe to suit the
merciful philosophy of this age in
which to be a great criminal is to be
a great htro. Indeed we believe that
the punishments were severer than
the ends of public justice required or
the license of a proper humanity au
thorized. But the character of the
various crimes and misdemeanors were
traced out by masterly hands. The
wheat of whatever was pure in hu
man conduct was winnowed out with
consummate skill from its most inti
mate admixture with whatever was
impure.
We are chiefly concerned at the
present with one example of that class
of offences designated as contra lonos
mores. A new “style” ot novel-wri
ting has taken possession of the realm
of light literature. We believe the
honor of originating it belongs to that
lively and piquaut people who, prior to
the recent War with Germany, gave the
civilized world its fashions iu the at
tire of the body as well as those of
the mind. Thence this charming
“style” crossed the English Channel,
whence certain imitative “Yankee
cousins” were not slow to don it.—
Ami now because (as we presume) the
“Southland” has been “conquered” iu
War, by these most noble and ingen
ious Yankees, we find certain literary
artists in our “land of the sun” play
ing third fiddler iu the role of imita
tiveness. Not content to leave this flow
ery and fragrant field of thorns and
thistles to male litterateurs, a certain
ciass ot literary amazons have march
ed forward in the realm of fictitious
writing, stormed brothels, ambushed
assignations and adulteries, and swept
the whole intricate glacis of fornica
tion with as diligent a hand as the
great Edmund Burke declares Ilyder
Ally did the fated region in India known
as the Carnatic. Under the English
Common Law as it stood iu theory and
practice half a century ago, authors,
publishers and vendors of such books,
probably certain purchasers and read
ers, would have been lega’ly liable to
indictment and presentment as guilty
of offences contra lonos mores. Even
now, in this innovating and wise age,
stand on our statute books theoretic
principles denunciatory of all that
tends to corrupt puolic morals—fine
spun theorems ot moral protection
never brought to the mathematical
black-board of practical demonstra
tion—couched in words of infinite
wisdom which American Solons have
substituted for the Common Law. But
there they stand—as petrified and in
ert in practice, and as hidden from the
daylight of moral influence, as are the
stalactites in the Mammoth Cave of
Kentucky.
The ready excuse which these mod
ern novelists of the purient school put
forth to justify their pen-pictures of
vice is, that these moral ulcers now
corroding the heart of society must
be laid open to the public view that
they may revolt the sensibilities of
the virtuous, and thus be more care
fully shunned. These uovels are warn
ings. We recollect an apposite story
ot two Reveiend young gentlemen in
Nashville, Tennessee, who a quarter ol
a century ago were surprised in one ot
the fashionable haunts of the demi
monde, at the midnight hour, and who
explained the situation by declaring
they were only studying human nature:
merely looking on, iu order to gain
more accurate information whereby
the souls of sinners could be saved,
and sin understanding^ denounced.
We need not say how the wise old heads
of the Church regarded their justifi
cation. Evil communications corrupt
good manners; such at least has been
the stupid old theory in the ages of
tbe past. We are old-fashioned enough
to believe that the best way to avoid
tbe taint of impurity is to put afar
from us the objects of corruption. An
old poet who had some celebrity in his
clay both for his rhyme and his reason,
declared,
very fashionable phase of society in
the upper circle of the great American
city. The round of gayeties; the
bold and flagrant intrigues ; the con
jugal infidelities cropping out every
where almost; the thorny path under
a shower of sneers, trodden by the
only female character in the book stu
pid enough to be virtuous—the ex
plosion of the most flagrant of these
intrigues, the pistols, the blood, the
deaths—these are wrought up with
vivid and artistic power. There is no
questioning the author's great ability.
We must accord to her, also, scrupu
lous fidelity to truth in her society
pictures of New Y~ork life. We
are inclined, further, to award to
her honesty of purpose to do good :
Her greatest villain and most fascinat
ing seducer meets death from the hus
band he has injured, much after the
style of Fisk’s “taking off” by Stokes.
The book was written and published
prior to New York’s delicious Fisk-
Stokes sensation—had it not been, we
should have supposed it to have been
suggested thereby. Seeing how the
chronology stands, we suppose the
dramatic Stokes may have read the
book, and may have been influenced in
some degree by its scenic pistolling in
the shaping of the surroundings and
the action of his own theatrical per
formance.
Two classes of readers may well
read Reginald Archer: 1. The unde-
bauchille. 2. Those already hopeless
ly debauched. The class lying be
tween these extremes, of whatever
numbers it is made up, would do well
when they see this handsome volume,
to admire the outside only. Yet while
vve say this, we owe it to the author
to say that there is nothing gross or
indelicate in the language of the book.
The author handles her pen with the
grace and the skill of a master ; and if
images of evil are conjured up by her
exquisite pen-paintings, the result is
skilfully and delicately done with as
little that is offensive in the manner
of the doing as is possible.
HIM HIGGINS' MAN.
BY CAROLINE.
GOODBY.
“ Vice is a monster of such frightful mein
As, to be hated need* but to be seen;
Bui seen to > oft, familiar wrili its face,
Wa first endure, then pity, then embrace.”
I cannot lull
My restless thoughts. Like troubled streams.
They flow and ever moan. There seems
A tone of sadness in the whisn ring trees—
A murmured echo on the twilight breeze,
Saying, “Good-by.’’
The parting time
Is past. He gave me words of peace,
A pa-tor’s blessing ,md the farewell kiss.
Although his kind words brought me gome relief,
Yet still, my heart was ail too full of grief
To say “Good-by.”
I know not why
Scch tender sweetness, yet such power
Of crushing sadness, fling their shower
Of thorns and roses from the little word
That oftenest with a weary sigh is heard—
The word, “Good-by.”
A double spell
It hears—to soothe the dreary heart
With the sweet wish implied—to start
Afresh tbe bubbling fountains of tbe heart’s keen
pain,
Because the parted may not meet again
To speak “Good-by”
Not always thus
These bitter partings. Sorrow’* night
Must fade before the dawning light
That scatters beams upon a heavenly shore.
Theie shall earth’* tired wanderer never more
Repeat, “Good-by."
LA PETITE.
In a Nut Shell.—In all the col
umns of editorials, communications
and speeches that have appeared since
the adjournment of the Cincinnati
Convention upon the duty and policy
of the Democratic party with refer
ence to the action and nominees of
that body, we do not recollect to have
seen the case more strongly or wisely
stated than by Hon. George H. Pen
dleton, who answered as follows in re
sponse to a direct question put him in
Kentucky the other day :
“1 think well of the Liberal cause,
but I am for having a National Demo
cratic Convention, and abiding its de
cision. ft looks now like we ought to
back the Liberals, but I am for taking
advantage of all the lights that may
be thrown on the situation between
now and the assembling of the Con
vention in July. If, at that time, it
appears, as now, that we ought to
make no naminations, I shall favor
such action or non-action. On the
contrary, should it be clear that we
can succeed with our own nominations
why make them.”
This covers the whole ground and
should be the sentiment of every Dem
ocrat in the country. Meanwhile let
patience possess our souls, and for
bearance, conciliation, fraternal feel
ing and fraternal language mark and
inspire all our utterances • upon this
vexed question.— Tel. Mess.
The moment modern society ceases
many of its present wicked and reck
less experiments in this Black Crook
age of the world’s wretched “ pro-
giess,” and reverts to the staid old so
ber maxims of morality and Christian
ity as our grandmothers understood
them, that moment a most fatal descen
sus averni ends, and morality begins
to look upward. At the very least, let
Southern women cease to employ the
grosser aspects of human sensuality
in making up the action of their fu
ture novels. If the perverted appe
tite of the age must have such literary
food, let it be furnished by masculine
purveyors; and if woman anywhere
must persist in fishing in these turbid
and noisome waters, let Yankee wo
men, English women, French women
or “any other” women, fish! For
Heaven’s sake, let Southern women
cast their nets in purer fountains !
These remarks have been forced on
us by the perusal of Reginald Archer,
a very handsome looking volume, pub
lished by Messrs. Osgood & Co., of
Boston. The author is Mrs. Emily
Seemuller, a native of Baltimore and
author of some preceding volumes
when she was Emily Crane. She has
exchanged single blessedness for mat
rimony, marrying a New York gentle
man named Seemuller; and her Regin
ald Archer (as we take it) portrays a
The Great Wall in China.—Mr.
Seward, speaking of the great wall of
China, which he examined during his
late trip to the East, says: “The
Chinese have been for at least two or
three thousand years a wall-making
people. It would bankrupt New York
or Paris to build the walls of the city
of Pekin. The great wall of China is
the wall of the world. It is forty
feet high. The lower thirty feet is ol
hewn limestone or granite. Two mod
ern carriages may pass each other on
the summit. It has a parapet through
out its length, with convenient stair
cases, buttresses, and garrison houses
at every quarter of a mile, and it runs
not by cutting down hills and raising
valleys, but over the uneven crests ot
the mountains and down through their
gorges, a distance of a thousand miles.
Admiral Rogers and I calculated that
it would cost more now to build tbe
great wall of China throughout its ex
tent of one thousand miles, than it has
cost to build the fifty-five thousand
miles of railroad in the United States.
What a commentary it is upon the
ephemeral range of human intellect to
see this great utilitarian enterprise, so
necessary and effective two thousand
years ago, now not merely useless,
but an incumbrance and an obstruc
tion,”
For thirty years Miss Higgins had
looked under hpr bed every night, and
had never found a man there yet, still
she looked. Whether it was fear that
impelled that deathless research, or a
fatality that was beckoning her to her
fate, I know not. It would seem,
however, to be the former, for she had
often been heard to observe: “ That
of all the abominations on earth, man
is the most abominable.”
Indeed, at the informal tea drinking
of the allied forces of Chesterviile, the
three Misses Wheeler and the two
Misses Jones, she had often excelled
them all in the withering tone with
which she would repeat: ‘Man! man!'
man!” and no one could breathe de
fiance at this foeman than she. It
was at one of these tea parties that
they had entered into a solemn com
pact that, in the event of. Woman’s
Rights giving either of these allies
sovereign power over the nation, and
Eastern law was to be by them im
ported and improved, and husbands
buried with the dead bodies of their
wives.
As Eunice Higgins well remarked :
“ That would put an end to widow
ers pretty lively.” And with this re
mark the Hyson flowed, and the was
sail went on—with such spirit, that
Aurelia Wilder, the most radical, ad
ded another clause: “ That the chil
dren of widowers should be thrown in
too, and not be a botherin’ other wo
men.” This was also well received.
Now if any one thinks Miss Eunice
Higgins was a woman devoid of vir
tues and womanly graces, I pity them
—they are so utterly mistaken —
She had assisted a drunken father
through the world till he made his
exit—sustained and supported a feeble
mother—and three or four children
older but more helpless than she, till
the mother went home to her reward,
and the children had found flourishing
homes for themselves, with the excep
tion of the eldest son, who had fol
lowed in the footsteps of his father,
literally. Indeed, when one contemp
lates the specimens of manhood she
had been most familiar with, her aver
sion to the sex does not seem so won
derful. She was now shrewd-eyed, but
good and kindly looking. No home
was brighter than hers. No farm bet
ter managed.
The night on which commences my
humble history, Miss Higgins went to
her room in unusual good humor. She
had had a tea party- The allies had
long been present, and admitted unan
imously that such fragrant tea, such
snowy biscuits and honey, such golden
butter, such cakes and sweetmeats had
not been partaken of that season. The
scene of her benign victory rose be
fore her as she took off the little
switch of hair at the back side of her
head, and pensively rooled it up ere
she put it in the top bureau drawer.
She saw again the sinking sun shin
ing in, through her house plants in
the window, upon the crimson drug
get of the dining-room ; the snowy
tea-table with its silver and pink-prig-
ged china; the admiring faces ot her
friends as they partook of her delici
ous food. But one memory disquiet
ed her; “She almost mistrusted her
lemon extract—the frosting on the
fruit cake don't seem to be flowered
quite enough.” But this haunting
manner was softened by the thought
that “ she could get a new bottle to
morrow.”
By this time she was arrayed in
her white night-dress and night-cap.
She folded up every article of clothing,
and laid it down at right angles; she
locked up her breast-pin ; and then,
impelled by fate, she calmly advanced
to the side of the bed, and raised the
snowy valances—gave one shriek and
fell backward on the carpet, hitting
her head badly as she did so on the
chair rocker. There was her man un
der the bed!
so must have come some distance. I
After the teamster stopped he had |
walked on, and, coming to her do6r
in the twilight, he thought he would
ask for some supper, but there was no
one in ; Miss Higgins had gone ‘a piece’
with her visitors. But the tea-table
stood there, laden with good things;
he had helped himself generously, and
then, as he heard her step suddenly
outside, guilt which makes cowards
of us all, drove him into the bed
room, and the steps came nearer and
nearer, undi*r the bed. His unusual
fatigue had overpowered him, and he
had fallen asleep and was awakened
only by her screams as she discovered
him.
Miss Higgins had found the man she
had been looking for, for thirty years,
but now the question arose, what was
she to do with him? As he had no
designs upon her property or hei life,
she could not lecture him therefore.
And as his courage arose, he displayed
a pretty—a very pretty—face, sur
mounted by a mass of bright curls, in
which shone two hen’s feathers. Miss
Higgins was very neat, but where is
the feather bed that will not occasion
ally shed a few feathers, dry tears hap
ly falling over memories of former
fights?
Miss Higgins’ good sense, backed by
her good heart, taught her what her
man needed now was a good supper
and a bed. But in the morning the
question again vexed her. What was
she to do with her man—should she
advertise him ? Again she questioned
him in the sunlighted dining-room as
he ate his excellent breakfast.
“Whereabouts do your folks live—
in what place!”
He looked up mildly at her, with
large piece of peach pie midway be
tween his plate and mouth, and an
swered obediently:
“Our folks’ house.”
“ Who is your folks?”
“ Father.'’
The allies were called in ; the stiffly
starched inquest sat ou Miss Higgins’
man. The additional result of their
over-questioning being that there was
every evideuce that the father of Miss
Higgins’ man belonged to that corrupt
and shameless sect—widowers!
Miss Higgins trembled.
“ Had she not better dispose of her
man at once? Was it not in a way
encouraging widowers in their nefari
ous doings, to harbor these small men.”
She asked these questions with some
relenting of heart, for already had the
childish charms of her man won upon
her, aud it was with great relief that
she heard the decision of Aurelia the
most radical ot the allies.
No! keep him here. Such a
chance was seldom vouchsafed to the
allies to teach one of these men—
widowers—a lesson they would not
soon forget.
Punish that wretch, that unnatural
widower, by saying nothing about the
child. Let him think he is lost: let
him hunt him up the best way he can.”
The youngest Miss Jones—she was
only forty,’aud naturally timid and
apprehensive—suggested that “ it
would be just like oue of these men
to coir.e right here to Miss Higgins’
after him. There wasn’t anything
that they hadn’t the face to do. It
would be jest like one of ’em to walk
into her sittin’ room ”
Miss Higgins had often fancied how
she would awe such a robber, such a
burglar, with her fearless and search
ing glances; how she would defeud
her property with her life. Let us not
be too hard with her—she is not the
only one of us who has found that it
is more easy to dream of great achieve
ments than to accomplish them. She
is not the only one who, at the first
stock, has shrieked and tumbled down
before adverse fate.
But Euuice Higgins was not one to
wither away before a calamity. Not
long did she lie there ; but as short
a time as it was when she lifted her
head her little man confronted her.
He was a very little man, indeed, not
more than seven years old, and small
at that; very good looking, and well
clothed, although exceedingly dishev
eled and uncomfortable in appearance.
“ How came you here, under my
bed ?”
This was the first question, but it
was repeated before he answered, with
drooping head and glances :
“ I’ve runned away.”
“ Run away from where?”
“ From our folk’s house.”
“ Who is your folks?”
“ Father.”
Here the dialogue terminated sud
denly. Eunice Higgins becoming con
scious that a night-gown and night
cap were not the proper raiment in
which to entertain even so small a
mau. Out in the pleasant sitting
room, beneath the warm light of ker
osene gleaming through ruse gerani
ums, aud the keener light of Eunice
Higgins’ eyes, the inquisition was
continued, from which these facts
were gleamed—that the boy, Johnny
Dale, had been so tried with his father,
because he wouldn’t let him go to a
circus, that he had run away.
It was early in tbe morning he said,
and he bad got a ride with a teamster,
Here Miss Higgins remarked :
“ I» he here now ?”
“Yes, sir, he is.”
His anxious eyes so brightened at
this, that she entirely forgot her car
pet and her enmity, and actually in
vited him in.
No sooner was he seated than John
ny ran in with eager eyes:
“Father! lather!”
He threw his arms around his fath
er’s neck, and kissed his bearded lips,
and then, in his delight, he turned and
threw his arms around Eunice Hig
gins’ neck and kissed her with the
same pair of lips, and still Miss Hig
gins could say, in the dying words of
the great statesman:
“ I still live.”
Mr. Dale was a man of means and
leisure. He thought the air of the
little town exceedingly good. He ob
tained board for the summer, for him
self and son, at the little hotel. But
in all Chesterviile no air was so pure
and salubrious, he thought, as the air
of Miss Eunice Higgins’ parlor, con
sequently he sought that healthful re
treat often, Johnny going before like
an olive blanch.
Day after day did Mr. Dale tread
over the immaculate purity of her car
pets, and they were not taken up and
“ cleaned.” Hour after hour did he
sit upon her parler sofa, and it was
not purified with soapsuds or benzine
And at least, one peaceful twilight,
it was on the fourteenth day of Sep
tember, at the close of a long conver
sation—both of the parties being at
the time, of sound mind—Johnny’s
father kissed Miss Higgins upon her
cheek.
When I say that she did not imme
diately burn out the spot with luoar
caustic, you may be prepared for the
result.
The next week Eunice Dale, late
Higgins, was ignominiously expelled
from the allied force of Chesterviile ;
her name washed out in hot cups of
Hyson, and still more burning indig
nations. But Eunice made a happy
home for her man and his father, aud
rejoicing in their content, and her
own, she cared not for the “ allied”
proceedings. And thus endeth the
story of Miss Higgins’ man.
A Sympathetic Brooklyn Scoun
drel.—Credulous and affectionate
wives of Brooklyn havt of late been
sadly imposed upon by a scoundrel of
the first ordef, a your g man about
twenty-seven years of age, well dress
ed, about five feet n ne inches in
height and of good address* The ras
cal has been in the ha )it of learning
the business hours of ti e husbands of
his prey, and carrying i ito execution
his nefarious designs as follows :—He
has been wont to call a; the dwelling
house of his victim, and request an in
terview with Mrs. . Upon that
lady making her appearance Mr.
Swindler would request her not to be
alarmed at what he was about to com
municate, although thri information
was of a most unpleasa. t character.—
But really the unfortnuEite affair must
be looked straight in tht? face, and (ta
king out his watch) it may yet be time
enough to effect the release of Mr.
your husband, who is now locked up
in tha Tombs for “assaiult and batte
ry.” Mr. had requested him, the
She would like to see him walk
into her house. He wouldn’t stir a
step beyond the hall, Bnd as for that
stair carpet she was going to take it
up and cleanse it, anyway.”
This remark, which was warmly
applauded, terminated the conference.
Johnny did not seem averse to the
arrangement. He was at the age
when bodily comfort overshadows the
mental. He appeared to have a great
deal of affection for his father, but
there was a Bridget, at the very men
tion of whose name he almost gnashed
liis teeth. “She was awful—she had
shaken him, pinched him, pulled his
hair.”
Eunice Higgins’ warm heart almost
melted within her at the recital of his
sufferings.
A week passed away, and daily had
Miss Higgins’ man gained upon her
affections. She was the youngest child
of her parents, and had never known
the delights of childish society. She
had dwelt so long alone, that to have
that bright, manly little face opposite
hers at the breakfast taole, looking out
of the window, hailing her return
from her short absences, his merry,
innocert prattle and ringing laugh,
was all the more agreeable to her than
she would be willing to acknowledge.
She grew lenient to the boyish nerve
of her man, lor the best of boys have
unregulated moments ; looked benig-
nantly upon him as he capered in the
garden paths in startling proximity to
her marrow-fats and cluster cucum
bers. She ravelled out a long stock
ing, and out of oue of her second best
Morocco shoes made a ball tor him ;
and when he lost it in her best meadow
she boldly breasted the clover waves,
side by side with him, in pursuit of it.
So that beautiful week passed away,
and one morning Eunice Higgins was
called.from her snowy dairy room by
a ring at her front door.
Opening it, she confronted a pleas
ant looking man of about her own
age. Woman’s unerring iutuition said
to her, “ This is he.” Here was the
opportunity to wither him with her
glances. But how could she when he
locked so much like Johnny, just such
a pleasant manly look in his face.—
Eunice did not wither*hitn.
“ I have been informed, Madam,
that there has been a boy, a runaway
boy, here—is it so?”
Instead of the prussic acid and vine
gar that she had designed to have in
her tone, the likeness to her man so
softened her voice that it was only
pleasantly acidulous, like a ripe lemon.
and had rode with him till alternooo» as she replied: ** Yes, sir, it is.”
sympathetic stranger, to call aud
break it gently” to his wife, and
procure $100 cash fro n her, or an
equivalent in jewelry, u'oon which lat
ter a loan could be obtained- The
money was necessary to obtain his
temporary release from j‘durance vile”
until the examination should come off.
The wives thus appealed to rarely re
fused to obtain the Requisite sum,
which is entrusted to ’’he keeping of
the considerate stranger.) who takes his
departure and is seen rjo more. Tbe
husband returns at his ijisual hour and
the swindle is discovered. The game
has been played quite frequently of
late. The last victim vas Mrs. Otto
Loesdiayk, 345 Hamilton avenue, who
gave a diamond ring worth $150 to
the “kind young fellow” to procure
the release of her husband on Monday
last. The police are looking after
him.
■—♦ — I
Jeff Davis will not Support
Greeley.—A ridiculous story having
been put in circulation that Mr. Da
vis had expressed his willingness to
support Horace Greeley for President,
the following contradiction is tele
graphed from Memphis under date of
16th inst:
Regarding the statement that Jef
ferson Davis had anuouuced himself as
a supporter of Greeley, and a dispatch
of the 12th inst., from New York cor-
coborating the statement, the Appeal
an out-auci-out Greeley paper, says:
“Mr. Davis authorizes us to say that
the story above given is wholly un
founded. He never wrote to 31 r. G ree-
ley on any subject; never made any
promise iu tegard to the Cincinnati tick
et to Greeley or any one else, and as
there is no other ticket with which to
compare it, could not have made the
comparison as stated.” We again
caution our Democratic friends against
the falsehoods with which, true to
their instincts and time honored prac
tice, the Greeley press are inundating
the country. Put no faith in their re
ports of democratic apostacy.
Of all the love affairs in the world,
none can surpass the true love of a big
boy for his mother. It is a love pure
and noble, honorable in the highest de
gree to both. I do not mean a duti
ful affection. I mean a love which
makes a boy gallant and courteous to
his mother, saying to every body
plainly that he is fairly in love with
her. Next to the love of her husband,
nothing so crowns a woman’s life with
honor as is second love, this devot.on
of the son to her. And I never yet
knew a boy to “turn out” bad who
began by falling in love with his mo
ther — m Anon,